Page 21 of The Square

Sorta rough. And not at all like the sex we had with Alec months earlier.

I’m not complaining. I kinda like it rough. It’s just… I’d forgotten about the night I caught him in Reykjavik. I’d forgotten that he had secrets.

All this time I figured I knew Danny. Knew everything there was to really know about Danny. Sure, we’d been apart for a few years and he’s done all kinds of things I didn’t know about—like the motorcycles and that Brasil asshole. But building motorcycles is just something he does and Brasil is just someone he knows.

So it had slipped my mind that there were private parts to Danny I’d never poked before. Deep parts inside him, maybe beyond the blue parts—maybe more like purple parts or red parts—that I had no clue about.

It unsettles me.

And it unsettles me more that I’m awake and he’s not in bed beside me like he was when I fell asleep.

And that’s the moment I realize we’re moving. We’re no longer docked at the marina in Hilo.

Catamarans are famous for their relatively smooth ride, so I’m not surprised that I didn’t notice we were moving. But now that I’m awake and aware, I can hear that the low rumble of the engine is different than it was earlier.

After we’d finished fucking in the shower Danny put on a pair of cargo shorts and went to start the water maker. We wasted a lot of water for the shower sex. So I fell asleep to the rumble of the engine because that’s how we run our water maker.

Still, it’s yet another example of something catching me by surprise.

I should’ve noticed these things. So now I’m wondering… what else did I miss?

I swing my legs out of bed and get up. Search for something to wear, find one of those white sleeveless t-shirts Danny likes to wear in a pile of clean clothes on the nearest chair, and tug it over me.

Funny how it fits him so different than it fits me. My breasts fill out the top but the part below my breasts flutters all the way down past my hips. Then I fish out a fresh pair of panties from the pile as well.

Upstairs it’s very quiet. Just the sound of the engine and that subtle creaking boats have.

When I get up top I can see the control station next to the kitchen, but he’s not there. He’ll be on the upper deck, sitting in the captain’s chair. So I walk past the living area to the stairs and go up.

His back is to me, bare and browned from these past few months in the tropics. His hair blonder and longer than it was when we left the States.

This is the old him, I realize. The one I knew.

And yet it’s not.

“Did I wake you?” he asks, without turning.

“No, not really. I just noticed the engine,” I lie.

“Figured we should get a move on.” He swivels the chair so he can side-eye me, his profile backlit against the glow of an approaching rising sun. “But it would be nice to know where we’re going.”

I huff out some air in a half laugh. “Only you would start a trip across the Pacific Ocean with no destination in mind.”

“I figured LA. Am I wrong?”

“No,” I say, stepping lightly across the teak floorboards toward him. He swivels the rest of the way toward me, arms opening as I approach. I accept his invitation and climb into his lap, acutely aware of just how sexy this man is.

We bump foreheads and he pulls my long hair out of the way so he can look up at me.

“Aren’t you gonna ask more questions?” I say.

“Funny,” he says. “I was just about to say the same thing to you.”

Oh. Yeah. I bet he was. Well, why not? “So…”

“Yeah,” he says.

“And…”